


Never

by SenkoWakimarin



Category: The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Dom/sub, Gun Kink, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2019-08-09 11:22:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16448996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SenkoWakimarin/pseuds/SenkoWakimarin
Summary: There are fundamental truths, if Frank cares to consider them.





	Never

They have done a lot together, but they’ve never done this.

Frank shivers at the feeling of cold, blunt metal jammed against his back, pressed into the curve of his lower back. The gun is steady, held on him with a surety of purpose Frank is only just beginning to expect from David.

“You think I couldn’t get that thing away from you before you figured out if the safety was even off?” he rumbles, low and dangerous.

David just chuckles, pleased with himself, free hand coming up to brush the braided leather of the choker that serves as Frank’s day collar. They’ve made progress, but they’re still working on certain aspects of this, and Frank’s need to remind David that he could always shift the dynamic is one of those aspects.

“Here in public?” David intones, thoughtful and pleasant, miles away from his old habitual nervousness. “Think about all the attention we’d get. You wanna get Pete in the papers? Maybe someone with a camera phone and a steady hand get you up on YouTube; Brave Man Fights Off Would-Be Gunman. The text doesn’t point out your pretty necklace, but everyone sees it. Everyone knows, and when the smart ones watch, they recognize the way you move. Is that how you wanna get back in the public eye, Frank,” David murmurs, smug and calm, gun pressed steadily against his spine, “everybody wondering who’s bitch you are?”

Frank twitches, and there’s that war again. He understands in a rudimentary way that David pushes for these moments, these wars; he’s dragging the reactions out of Frank, teaching him, breaking him in, showing him he’s safe with him no matter what.

Still, he struggles. Fight or flight, turn and smash a fist into David’s face, keep hitting until David was no longer any kind of threat, or zig off into the crowd, disappear and never let himself be found.

Or.

Third option.

Accept it. Accept the gun, accept David so cocksure behind him. Acknowledge that he’s not in charge, accept the weight of trust.

He unwinds a little, relaxing by sheer force of will.

“Good man,” David praises, still low and conversational, just for Frank. “Let's go for a walk.”

It’s a risk, playing this game in public. David could get caught, they could end up in some very deep shit, but Frank thinks that’s part of why his cock is already so hard. They could get caught, and with enough of an eye for detail, any one could put together the clues, figure out the scene for what it is.

That’s good.

Frank keeps his head up without David having to tell him to. They look like a pair of friends, one guiding the other with a hand at the small of his back. No one sees the gun, and David steers with quick, brutal efficiency.

Frank’s heart rate doesn’t pick up until they reach his building, him fumbling with his keys. He kept digging the key around the lock rather than keyhole, but it doesn't matter.

What matters is the sound of the hammer being dragged back. It’s crisp and clear in the stillness and hugely loud in Frank’s head was the ringing of that sound. For one terrifying moment he feels the heat of the revolver press sharply into him, jerking as if in recoil. He feels the bullet smash through his spine, tear through organs. He feels the agony and the betrayal and he feels the fear, so raw and gripping, dragging down from his shoulders like a cold sweat.

He jams the right key into the lock and throws the door open and they rush inside. He doesn’t even realize he’s sobbing until they’re standing together in the entryway of Frank’s dingy little one bedroom.

David asks a lot of him sometimes, and maybe this is the breaking point. Fear laces through his arousal, sunk so deep in that headspace that he doesn’t know how safely he could disarm David anymore. It’s no longer certain that he could take the gun away without getting shot. David has all the power, all the pain in his fist, digging into Frank’s back.

“Are you scared, Frank?” David asks with genuine curiosity.

Because there’s a gun on him, and because it seems unthinkable that he could lie to David, Frank answers, calmly as he can, “Yes.”

David leans in against him, the gun digging in sharply, so he can nuzzle his face against Frank’s neck. “I like hearing you say it,” he confides. “So honest, my good man. Lets go to bed, huh?”

In the bedroom, David makes him undress. He wants to be ashamed of how hard he is, but David stares at him with such hungry appreciation that it's difficult. Naked, David makes Frank lay down on the bed, face down. He crawls on top of him, settling on his back and pressing the gun against Frank’s neck.

He thinks about the bullet tearing through, shattering everything in its path. This close, it’d be a horrific mess. Almost certain death.

His cock is hard against the sheets, and what that says about him, he doesn’t want to examine much.

More often than not, they face each other when they make love. Frank knows David has some idea about teaching Frank to see himself as beautiful. This time though, David pushes Frank's face into the mattress and fucks into him, fucks him open while pushing the gun against the joint of skull and spinal column.

When David comes, buried inside him to the hilt, he hears the hollow click of the hammer being pushed back in place and doesn’t know if he’s disappointed that David didn’t pull the trigger or if he’s relieved.

Either way, he comes harder that he can remember ever coming, shoved hard into the mattress. David praises him the whole time, calling him ‘good’, calling him ‘brave’, calling him ‘perfect’.

It takes a while to come back down from that, but David is very good at this part. He holds him and pets him and listens to him cry as he will. Eventually Frank rolls over and leans himself into David’s arms.

“Unloaded?” he asks, hoarsely and wrecked.

“Of course,” David promises, hand running neat, soothing patterns over Frank’s arms.

Frank knows that’s the whole point, to trust someone to take him out of his sphere of comfort. But he never expected it to really work that well, to break him into tender pieces and let himself come back together.

That’s how it is with David. How it always is. He pushes harder than anyone else ever dared push him. Pushes until he breaks and then picks up all the pieces, holds him until he can put himself whole.

“I’ll never hurt you,” David promises, and they both know promises like that often are broken. Distance has a way of creeping up on Frank, but he thinks this one might be the exception.

The gun is set aside on the bedside table. David sighs, bundling Frank’s shuddering form into his arms and kissing him gently. He wouldn’t ever hurt Frank, not ever, and that seems as fundamental a truth as anything.

David is good, David has him, and David will never hurt him.


End file.
